


my only heart is beating for you

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: as long as you stand by me (ffxv works) [16]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Prompto Argentum, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Promptis Week, Whump, mentions of Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Prompto sat beside him, breathing steady. The first aid kit clicked closed, and Noctis took a deep breath.“Hey, Prompto,” he said, raising his head to meet Prompto’s eyes, “have you ever thought about joining the Crownsguard?”prompto's resolve pieced together by brighter memories and a desperate endeavor to keep his best friend safe.





	my only heart is beating for you

**Author's Note:**

> _hurt/comfort | **Prompto joining the Crownsguard** | “Please don’t leave me.”_
> 
> i believe i hit bingo again for today's prompts!!  
> hey, hey square. i've said it before and i'll say it again: if u won't give us more brotherhood era content, then we'll have to do it ourselves. our city now,,
> 
> i experimented with tenses and pov so just be warned in case you read some very awkward sentences! i haven't written in past tense in. so long
> 
> title from ["never get to hold you"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvApKIuJ68M) by carly rae jepsen which is now my new promptis song, pls give the lyrics a look

 

 

They’ve been down here in the caves for months. It’s probably closer to a few hours, but it feels like months. Prompto has pretty much forgotten what fresh air feels like. His legs hurt from walking for so long. There’s a gash on his shoulder from the last scuffle that hasn’t fully healed because they’re saving their last remaining curatives for serious injuries. But there’s a Royal Tomb hidden deep down in here, so Prompto grits his teeth and trudges forwards.

Noctis staggers in front of him suddenly. He doesn’t fall, but he has a hand to his head and his face is scrunched up in pain.

“Hey,” Prompto says, “you okay?”

Noctis doesn’t respond. The others are ahead of them and haven’t noticed yet. Prompto lays a hand on Noctis’ shoulder.

“Uh, guys?” he calls. “Something’s—”

He never manages to finish that sentence. The ground begins to tremble, then the walls, then the ceiling. Rocks and dust starts to drop down. Ignis and Gladio turns back, yelling, but the pathway they’ve been walking on crumbles quickly. Prompto has a moment to meet Ignis’ terrified gaze before the entire world breaks apart.

He tightens his grip on Noctis, and holds on.

 

 

 

 

Prompto’s lip was bleeding. There’s a bruise growing on his left cheek, his tie was missing, and his hair was a right mess, but he grinned at Noctis from across the school courtyard like there’s nothing wrong.

“Heya, Noct! Thought you went home already.”

Noctis came to a stop in front of him. He still hadn’t torn his eyes away from the fresh injuries. “What on Eos happened to you?”

“Huh? Oh, this?”

“Yeah, this.”

Prompto shrugged. He’s avoiding Noctis’ eyes. “What, you don’t think it makes me look ruggedly handsome—?”

“What happened, Prompto.”

Noctis only felt slightly guilty at the way Prompto deflates. Mostly he felt worried, and angry. 

“Just a couple of assholes,” Prompto said. “It’s nothing. You should have seen the other guys.”

Noctis frowned. “Is it because you’re friends with me again?”

“Nah. Not really, anyway. It’s more the war thing, you know? And how I look obviously not-Lucian, yet you still spend your time with me.”

“You are Lucian, though.”

The smile Prompto gave him caused a twinge in Noctis’ heart. “I know that, but they don’t seem to care.”

Noctis frowned harder. But before he could say anything else, Prompto hooked an arm around his shoulders and dragged him forwards, chanting something about getting ice cream to cheer him up. Noctis allowed himself to sink into his best friend’s side, and pushed aside his worries for another day.

 

 

 

 

He must have hit his head. When Prompto opens his eyes, he doesn’t recognize where he is.

The ground has stopped shaking. It’s dark. He turns his flashlight on, but all he can see are rocks. Slowly, he pushes himself up into a sitting position and runs a mental check on himself. His ribs hurt from where he must have landed, and he can feel the sting of new scratches on his skin. His head is throbbing and his vision goes fuzzy when he moves too fast. But he can still move. He’s suffered worse. Now, to figure out where his friends are—

“Noct!” 

Scrambling over, Prompto turns his best friend onto his back. He’s unconscious. There’s a little blood on his forehead, where he must have hit his head, too. With careful fingers, Prompto checks the wound. It doesn’t look too serious, but his heartbeat doesn’t settle.

Prompto looks around them again. They must been caved in after the earthquake caused by... whatever that thing was. He doesn’t hear it now. He hopes Ignis and Gladio are alright.

“No signal,” he groans, pressing his phone against his forehead. He looks down at Noctis, who still hasn’t stirred. “Shit,” Prompto says, with feeling.

 

 

 

 

Noctis carefully applied poultice to Prompto’s back. He’s scowling and Prompto knew it, too.

“You shouldn’t have fought them,” he said.

“They shouldn’t have picked a fight with me,” Prompto said back.

“Yeah, but. You could have ignored them.”

“They were insulting you, Noct. I can’t just let that lie.”

“You should have.” Noctis looked up and Prompto closed his mouth. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me. I don’t like seeing you get hurt at all.”

Prompto was quiet for a while. Noctis finished patching him up and started to put everything back into the first aid kit. A hand on his elbow stopped him.

“Hey,” said Prompto. “Sorry.”

Noctis shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but. I just hate it when people talk shit about you when they didn’t even bother to get to know you.”

There’s a warmth burning in Noctis’ chest. “You know it’s the same for me, right?”

Prompto smiled at him. “Guess we both pass the best friends test.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. He focused on putting things away. Prompto sat beside him, breathing steady. The first aid kit clicked closed, and Noctis took a deep breath.

“Hey, Prompto,” he said, raising his head to meet Prompto’s eyes, “have you ever thought about joining the Crownsguard?”

 

 

 

 

It takes Prompto longer than he’d like to admit to wrestle his unconscious best friend onto his back. Noctis is only slightly banged up from the fall, so Prompto whispers a prayer of thanks to whichever Astral was looking out for them. But he’s completely unresponsive, and Prompto is afraid to use a potion when he’s unsure what the problem is. Head injuries and magic healing items aren’t exactly a good mix.

For now, he needs to find a way out of this dead end and regroup with the others. They all studied the map together, so it makes sense to keep heading towards the Tomb. It’ll be okay. He just has to make it there, and then Iggy can take over. Yeah. Prompto’s got this. He’s got Noct, and he’s going to protect him with his life.

This is what he signed up for. This is what his whole life has been amounting to. He’s got this.

He has to.

 

 

 

 

Heaving out a sigh, Noctis threw his phone down somewhere on his bed. It’s Saturday, and Prompto had just cancelled on their plans for a video game marathon for the fourth week in a row. Noctis couldn’t even blame him. He’s the one that dragged him into training hell, anyway.

He’d suggested it as a compromise of sorts. Prompto was the sweetest guy he knew, the kind of guy that stopped to pet dogs and helped old ladies cross the street. But Prompto was the most loyal guy he knew, who could take insults under his own name but once his friends were involved, he’d be there to throw down. So Noctis wanted to at least make sure that Prompto knew how to defend himself properly.

Gladio told him that Prompto was doing surprisingly well with the Crownsguard training. Noctis wasn’t surprised. Prompto could do anything if he put his mind to it. More than that, if he believed it was for someone else—for Noctis—he’d take on the whole world.

Noctis knew how incredibly lucky he was to have Prompto on his side.

But he missed him. Sometimes he wondered if he did the right thing. Maybe he should have just suggested Prompto sit in on his own training sessions with Gladio. That way, Prompto could still just be his best friend without any ties to the Crown or Noctis’ fate that he preferred not to think about. 

He wouldn’t have to swear his best friend in, asking Prompto to die for him.

(He knew that Prompto would, anyway. He wished he wouldn’t. He wanted Prompto to live for him instead. But Noctis was afraid of asking for more than he deserved.)

 

 

 

 

Prompto isn’t sure he can do this much longer.

It’s still dark, the rocks everywhere, barely leaving enough space for him to squeeze by with Noctis on his back. Prompto feels like the walls are closing in on them. He’s afraid they’ll run out of air. He’s afraid they might die down here. He’s afraid he’ll fail Noctis.

He trips on something and sends both of them sprawling to the ground. He must have hit his head harder than he thought, because it takes him far too long to see straight again. Everything hurts. Every breath seems a bit harder than the last. He catches sight of Noctis’ back a few feet away. He still isn’t moving. Prompto swallows a sob, and crawls over.

Noctis is breathing, slowly but surely. Prompto tugs Noctis onto his lap. He brushes aside the messy dark bangs. 

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, Noct. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

His own voice echoes back to him in the dimness.

“Noct,” he says again. His chest hurts. He coughs. “Noct, please.”

In the empty darkness, Prompto clutches at his best friend, and cries.

 

 

 

 

“I thought we were past this stage in our relationship,” Noctis tried to joke, but his voice came out too flat. He peeled open another bandage and applied it carefully to Prompto’s arm.

“What, you don’t appreciate seeing me half-naked?” Prompto was much better at playing cheerful than Noctis was. 

Noctis sighed. “I thought you said you were at training this morning.”

“I was.”

“Then how did this—” Noctis narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me the other recruits did this to you?”

Prompto reached out to tug the ointment out of Noctis’ tightened grip. “It’s just a friendly sparring match, calm down. Maybe minus the friendly part. But I got some extra exercise out of it, I’m not hurt, it’s fine, whatever.”

“It’s not  _ fine _ , Prom—”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Noct.” 

There was an edge to Prompto’s voice that Noctis hadn’t heard before. He fell silent, watching his friend pretend to concentrate on treating the bruises on his ribs. 

“Everyone’s on edge because of the war, and training isn’t exactly playground activities. They see me hanging out with you and Gladio treating me like a brother, and they’re jealous, whatever, they don’t get it. They see my blond hair and Niff colouring and they see you show up after practice to walk me home, they don’t get it. But I’m doing my best, okay? I’m gonna show them. I’m going to be the best Six-damned Crownsguard they’ll ever see.”

Noctis was still angry at the bullies who hurt his friend. He was still angry at the injustice and cruelty that thrived in his kingdom. But sitting there, staring up at the determination painted across Prompto’s face, Noctis could only nod. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, and Prompto beamed.

 

 

 

 

Somewhere further down the dark tunnel, a dragging sound echoes. Prompto holds his breath. Noctis grows heavy against him. His limbs tremble with the effort and fear. He knows the adrenaline running through his veins will run out any second now.

But he has to hold on. He has a King to protect.

Carefully, he lowers Noctis to the ground, propping him against the wall. “Sorry, buddy,” he says through the pounding in his head. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”

He summons his guns just in time for the first imps to round the corner. Prompto grits his teeth. This won’t be pretty.

 

 

 

 

Prompto never made it to his final Crownsguard exam. 

The night before his exam, he and Noctis were walking back from the restaurant where they had a pre-celebration dinner (“It’s perfect because no matter what happens, the celebrations already happened so we can feel accomplished either way!” Prompto insisted. “But what if the worst happens and there’s nothing to celebrate after all?” Noctis asked. “Then it’s extra good luck, just in case!” Noctis could only laugh at the proud pose Prompto was holding.) at their favourite diner. It’s a familiar route back to the bus station, but their good cheer was ruined when a very drunk group of people stumbled into their path and knocked into Prompto.

“Whoa, there,” Prompto said, holding out a hand to steady the man. But instead of apologizing, the man swung around and shoved at Prompto.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you Niff bastard!”

Stunned, the two of them stood there gaping at the drunkard. Noctis was beginning to wish he had taken up Ignis’ offer on a ride back. He reached out to tug Prompto along, but the man wasn’t finished.

“It’s you assholes,” he slurred, leaning into Prompto’s space, “that ruin our lives. How many people have lost their homes because of you, huh? Why don’t you get out of here, huh? Go back where you came from!”

“Hey,” Noctis said. He pushed the man back lightly. “I think you should go home.”

Which turned out to be a mistake, because the guy’s friends started to heckle him, too. Noctis didn’t flinch when they seemed to recognize him and began shouting unsavoury things about him and his father. His blood boiled, but he’d been taught how to hold his composure since he could talk. These people were nothing.

Until one of them decided words weren’t enough and raised an arm to hit him. 

The fist never connected. Prompto was there, having pushed Noctis behind him. He was wearing an expression Noctis had never seen before. It wasn’t angry, it wasn’t scared. It was  _ furious _ .

“Don’t touch him,” Prompto hissed at the man. 

The next few minutes was a confusing blur. Noctis knew they shouldn’t have engaged them. But Prompto could hold his own in a fight, he knew that. Except they were outnumbered four to two, and then he caught the glint of steel out of the corner of his eye. He was reluctant to fight back for real. No matter how foul these men were, they were still civilians.

Something crashed into his back. Noctis went down, hitting the ground hard. He rolled, scrabbling with the guy trying to pin him down. He had a knife too close to Noctis’ face for his liking. He could hear grunts and punches next to them. He couldn’t see Prompto. Fear spiked in him, and he kicked the man off him in one smooth movement, knocking him out with the butt of his own knife.

Noctis spun around in time to catch Prompto knocking out the last of the two he was fighting with. He met Prompto’s eyes.

“We need to get out of here,” he said.

Prompto nodded, but his eyes suddenly widened.

There was no warning for the way Prompto suddenly threw himself forwards, in front of Noctis, right as the last man struck forwards with his knife.

Noctis never wanted to see the red of his best friend’s blood on his hands ever again.

 

 

 

 

Prompto drags himself back to Noctis. That was the worst fight of his very short career. His leg is bleeding and his head still hurts like a chocobo stampede crashed through it. But the imps are gone and Noctis is safe. That’s all that matters.

He staggers when he reaches Noctis. “Oh, no,” he says to his legs. “Don’t do this to me. C’mon, man.”

His legs don’t listen. Prompto falls to his knees in front of Noctis. His arms tremble when he tries to push up again. Everything is blurry. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Come on, Argentum,” he mutters. “You have one job. One job.”

He tries. He really does. But his body refuses to listen, so Prompto collapses on the ground. He’s lost track of how long they’ve been here. How long since they were separated from Ignis and Gladio. He’s managed to carry Noctis away from the cave-in and backtracked through the tunnels to the intersection leading to the Tomb. It’s not far enough, he knows. But he’s just so tired.

_ We’re going to die down here, _ Prompto thinks. Panic tries to surge up, but his mind is already stretched thin over the pain running through his chest and his leg and his head, and the darkness and narrowness of the tunnels they’re trapped in, oh gods they’re trapped in here there’s nowhere to go no one will ever find them—

As he can feel his concentration slipping, Prompto suddenly feels a hand on his head. He looks up blearily.

“Prom?” Noctis says slowly. His words are slightly slurred, but he’s awake. He’s awake! “What’s... What happened?”

Prompto opens his mouth to tell him, but all he manages is a single, “Noct,” before his vision blurs out and he retreats to darkness.

 

 

 

 

Noctis swore Prompto in on a sunny afternoon. 

It was a small ceremony, as Prompto’s recovery lasted long past his class graduated to Crownsguard status. But he had the Marshal’s approval, and Noctis’ approval, even the King’s. Prompto was more than qualified to be Crownsguard, and everyone in the room knew it.

He looked good in the Crownsguard uniform. It was a bit strange, seeing his friend decked out in the royal colour like that, but Prompto stood tall and proud. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he met Noctis’ eyes on the tall steps.

Noctis pinned the royal emblem onto Prompto’s chest. He was close enough to see the slight flush on Prompto’s freckled cheeks. His friend was still nervous in front of crowds, but he was here. He made it. For Noctis. And Noctis was so proud of him, but.

As he drew back, allowing the others to congratulate Prompto, Noctis couldn’t help but sigh. He wanted his best friend by his side in the future, and this was a surefire way to make certain of that. He knew that. But. Prompto had always occupied a different space in Noctis’ heart, different from Ignis, from Gladio, who were his friends and whom he loved dearly, yet they were raised to serve him. To give his life for him. 

He’d never wanted to ask that of his best friend.

But what’s done was done, and Noctis could only smile while praying to whichever Astral might take pity on him that he never had to see the day when Prompto had to fulfill his true duty to the Crown.

 

 

 

 

Prompto wakes with his head pillowed on somebody’s lap. They’re still in the caves. He shudders before he can stop himself.

“Prom?”

With great effort, Prompto peels open his eyes. Noctis is staring down at him in worry. Then, Prompto registers the murmur of other voices beside them. He tenses, but Noctis finds his hand and squeezes.

“It’s okay,” says Noctis. “It’s just Ignis and Gladio. They found us. You did good, Prom.”

Prompto has to turn his head to make sure. It hurt less than before, but he still feels bone-weary exhausted. Noctis is right. Gladio is pacing with his greatsword while Ignis hovers next to them in concern. Both of them look a bit more roughed up than before, but they’re alive. Safe.

“How are you feeling, Prompto?” Ignis asks.

“Terrible,” he replies. Noctis’ grip on his hand tightens. Prompto turns back to him. “Are you okay?”

Noctis frowns. “I’m fine. Just hit my head. It’s you that was hurt the most. You know you had a cracked rib? And when I woke up, you were practically dying at my feet. You scared the crap out of me, Prompto.”

“Sorry,” Prompto says automatically. Then he frowns. He tries to sit up to glance at the rest of him. 

As if hearing his unspoken question, Ignis tells him, “Noctis applied a potion on you, given how serious your injuries were.”

“I used up a potion?”

“You needed it, kid,” Gladio says. “You still look like shit even after its effects. Astrals know Noct wants to give you another one right now.”

Prompto squeezes Noctis’ hand again. “I’m feeling better,” he says urgently. “Really.”

Noctis reaches down to brush his hair away. “Okay,” he says, “but I’m keeping an eye on you, okay?”

And because Prompto is still in his lap, with Noctis’ hands on him, he can feel the slight shaking going through Noctis’ body. He must have been really scared. Prompto turns his face into Noctis’ shirt and nods. 

Fingers run through his hair. Then, a whisper too low for the others to hear, “Please don’t leave me.”

Eyes closed and voice muffled by Noctis’ stomach, Prompto whispers back, “I won’t.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me ur brotherhood era headcanons @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter


End file.
